


Misunderstanding

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, Protective James Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if it wasn’t enough that he was as pale as they came and so thin that the doctors didn’t really need to x-ray him to see his bones despite the copious amounts of food he ingested on a daily basis, he also bruised embarrassingly easily. All it took for his skin to get that reddish-purple tint that gave way to yellowish-brown was a little bit of pressure. He healed rather fast, felt nothing, but it was still annoying and kind of traumatizing.</p><p>You can imagine why visiting the dentist wasn't his favourite pastime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> My mind wonders to strange places when I have a couple of needles stuck in my tooth, waiting for the dentist to come back and resume his work. 
> 
> Please enjoy and forgive any and all mistakes~

As if it wasn’t enough that he was as pale as they came and so thin that the doctors didn’t really need to x-ray him to see his bones despite the copious amounts of food he ingested on a daily basis, he also bruised embarrassingly easily. All it took for his skin to get that reddish-purple tint that gave way to yellowish-brown was a little bit of pressure. He healed rather fast, felt nothing, but it was still annoying and kind of traumatizing.

 

Even now, his body was covered in the bloody marks because 006 had been so happy to make it out alive from his latest missions that he gave him the longest and strongest bear hug Q had ever gotten in his life. Honestly, if Alec ever did use his full strength, he could certainly kill a full grown grizzly bear just by holding him in his arms and he seriously thought that the Putin memes would completely be forgotten if the public at large ever saw this particular double oh agent in action.

 

That wasn’t the only instance when Alec hugged him – he was the only double oh agent who did that, probably because he was still in tune with how things were done in his country despite having left it a long time ago – and Q couldn’t find it within himself to tell the man what his shows of affections were doing to him.

 

Not just because he knew that was how the agent reassured himself that he was still alive at the end of a mission, but also because Q was secretly a touch hungry child. He liked it when the agent hugged him; he liked it when the others squeezed his shoulders in an appreciative manner whenever they returned from their missions. If Alec, if anyone found out about his condition – was it even that? He never bothered to check – they would all stop, just like his parents did.

 

His parents didn’t stop loving him, of course. They just stopped showing it physically after the third teacher that had called the cops on them, suspecting them of abusing the light of their eyes. And they were also afraid that Q felt pain despite the numerous times he said he didn’t. They patted his head carefully and bought him all the things they could, assuring him of their love verbally almost constantly. But he still grew up craving physical affection.

 

There were a few people in MI6 who knew about his treacherous veins and most of them didn’t act as if he was made of glass. But they weren’t field agents; they were his minions, people who didn’t live with the unconscious fear that everything they touch gets destroyed and everyone who gets even a bit of affection from them – be it the romantic kind or the innocent, friendship one – dies.

 

And this wasn’t just an unfounded assumption. There were two people who knew of his little problem and who were former field agents that he considered to be living proof. Eve Moneypenny – whose arms had been constantly around him and who had loved to hug him so tightly that all air left his lungs until she saw the bruises and he was forced to come clean – and Bill Tanner – who loved to smack his back and let his kids jump on him and tug on his arms until he saw a bruise appearing right in front of his eyes; Q barely managed to save the eight year old who had given him the newest mark from being grounded for the rest of his life.

 

But R and the rest did not care. They just asked Q if it hurt when he got them and after finding out that wasn’t the case, they carried on with their tight hugging and back slapping, filling Q’s heart with a warmth and joy. Q even let them compare the marks they left behind, chuckling when they started to bicker among themselves about who really cared for the Quartermaster more according to his skin.

 

And if touchy feely friends were hard to get, lovers of any kind were out of the question. Not one of his past lovers, both male and female, lasted for more than three months. Q didn’t blame them or held a grunge against them. They did care for him and they made it clear that he did nothing wrong and that there wasn’t anyone else in their lives. But they simply couldn’t take the odd looks some people gave them when they caught a glimpse of Q’s body.

 

“I just don’t want anyone to think that I’m abusing you and I don’t think I could live with myself if the cops ever showed up at the door.” That was what they all told him as they ended their relationship and Q couldn’t help but find it funny, in a sad and heart breaking way.

 

He got used to that and when he became the MI6 Quartermaster, he didn’t even have time to date, so all was good. What he didn’t get used to and what annoyed him beyond all reasons was the way his face looked after he visited the dentist. He usually sought to visit the MI6 dentist office when important missions weren’t run so he could take a week off to give himself time to heal.

 

And then his wisdom teeth decided that it was time for them to rot and hurt him for no good reasons. After all he had done for them, how carefully he had brushed them and made sure that there was no food stuck between them, they betrayed him. All four of them. At the same time. In the middle of the period where he could take only two days off at most. Bloody perfect.

 

Q struggled to ignore the pain as much as he could, but when it started to travel to his chest and it was so intense that it caused him to snap at R for putting his mug on his left side instead of the right one, he knew that he had no other choice but to go to the doctor.

 

“About bloody time,” R grumbled, eyes narrowed. “We were just talking about drugging you and dropping you off at the dentist because we can’t stand seeing your roll around in pain when you think no one is watching. And the large bags under your eyes tell me that sleep has also eluded you because of the pain.”

 

He looked up from his computer, still typing the command he knew by heart to a program that was set to send him an alarm on his phone the second something went wrong during a mission. “It’s good to know that my own family is plotting against me. It warms my soon to be pierced heart that you came clean,” he said in the driest voice he could muster. Really, it is almost impossible to be sarcastic when all you want to do is curl in a tight, little ball on the ground and cry because of the pain.

 

“You will be taking a company car.” It wasn’t a question and R had even sent a message to the parking lot, requesting a bullet-proofed car in his name.

 

Now Q could have had his wisdom teeth pulled out on separate occasions, but since he really did not fancy himself actually running missions while still under anaesthesia and he also didn't want to ruin more than one Friday – since he had decided to go on a Friday and take Monday and Tuesday off – he opted to have them all taken out at the same time. So instead of being stuck in the torture chair for no more than ten minutes, he ended up sitting in it for a whole hour. 

 

When the dentist was done with him, Q couldn’t feel his face at all and a quick glance in a mirror revealed that most of his face was bruised. Because of course his teeth would have put up a fight which forced the dentist to, well, apply quite a bit of force. The driver dropped his coffee cup when he saw him and instinctively reached for his gun, getting ready to shoot whoever had hurt the Quartermaster while under his watch.

 

Q, ever ready, simply held up his phone and let the man read the message. “ _I bruise extremely easy. Nothing bad happened._ ” The man still looked at him like he didn’t believe him so after wiping some drool from his mouth he lifted his sleeve and pinched his arm, the white skin almost instantly tuning dark red.

 

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry for… It’s just that your face is…” The driver trailed off, making vague signs around his face for a few seconds before letting his arms drop. “So, I guess I’m to take you home now, right?”

 

Q shook his head, needing a moment to type a new message. “ _Back at the office, actually. I forgot something important that I need to work over the weekend._ ” He jumped in the car, cringing when he saw how he looked in the mirror and typed a new message for the driver. “ _I would also appreciate it immensely if you’d stop at a store and buy me a scarf for obvious reasons.”_

 

He was secretly happy that the man had bought him a Ravenclaw scarf and he made a mental note to get him something nice for Christmas. R, of course, opened her mouth to have a go at him when she saw him back, but he quickly assured her – he had pre-typed the message because he knew that would be her reaction – that he was there to simply pick up an USB stick and be on his way.

 

It was his misfortune that James Bond, nosy 007, chose that exact moment to enter his beloved domain and instantly suspected that something was wrong when he saw that his face was all covered up. “Quartermaster, I know you are quite bored with normal clothing, but a scarf in this hot weather?”

 

Q shrugged his shoulders, nodded towards R and was almost safely out the door when the agent blocked his path and ripped the scarf from him. So many emotions flashed in his eyes that Q wasn’t able to see all of them. All he knew was that, in the blink of an eye, James was pulling him out the door, ignoring R’s calls and talking.

 

“Who did this to you? How was it possible? We’re really slacking off in the security department if the Quartermaster is covered in bruises.” He stopped suddenly and Q almost hit his head against his back. “Again, who did this to you?” Q didn’t think it was possible for the man to touch him so gently, but the large hand that had so much blood on it was shaking slightly as he turned his head and inspected the bruises, deep frown etched on his forehead.

 

“I can’t…” He stopped talking because he suddenly tasted blood in his mouth so that mean that he had either bit his tongue or his cheek.

 

Blood must have been dripping because, for a second, James looked panicked and he pulled out a napkin out of his pocket and started to gently wipe his mouth. “Never mind. I see your mouth is swollen and I assume that you’ve been in medical first so you must be under heavy local anaesthesia. Just take me to whoever gave you those bruises and I’ll deal with them.”

 

Q shivered, eyes almost fluttering shut before his brain started to work again and he pulled back, shaking his head. James moved after him and continued to touch his face gently, probably thinking of all the horrible things he could do to his Quartermaster’s attackers, getting angrier as the seconds ticked buy.

 

A sudden image of a dentist nailed to his own chair with the agent leaning over him, drilling into one of his tooth until it reached the bone sent a cold shiver down Q’s back. He couldn’t allow that to happen! He had to explain to the agent about everything and bribe him with those blasted exploding pens – which had to be possible because he saw exploding lighters in that one movie and yes, they were possible, but no one was safe if James actually owned one – and maybe a few good and illegal upgrades to his beloved Aston Martin to get him to keep his secret.

 

“Q, stop shaking your head. I’ll help you put on your pyjamas and then watch you destroy them when you finger that button after I made them look worse than you.” He stopped again and this time Q really did walk in his back, quite thankful that he was still unable to feel anything with his face. “I do not mean to say that you look bad, just that, at this point in time, you don’t look like your usual captivating self.”

 

His left eyebrow slowly arched up, James ignoring his curious look as he was struggling to rearrange his glasses. So James found him captivating? That was…good to know. Of course Q found the agent quite pleasing to the eye, who didn’t? Maybe a bit more beyond pleasing, actually. And, if he thought better, if he was exhausted and if it was after four in the morning, he would be willing to admit that he had quite a big crush on him.

 

But again, who didn’t? Maybe the straight guys, but that wasn’t Q’s case. And anyway, Eve had assured him that everyone went through a James phase, although she insisted that he did not think of getting him out of his system with the use of the bed. Not that James was a bad lover or that he started to act like a complete ass after he bedded people. She simply didn’t want him to lose his– When did they get in the car?

 

Oh, James was talking to him again. And looking quite worried. “Q? Quartermaster? Did medical give you painkillers that also help people pass out? Can you focus enough to type in the address where you were accosted?” He gently brushed some hair out of his eyes, trying to tame the wild locks a bit. “You can stay in here while I deal with them, don’t worry.”

 

“Bond, I don’t—“

 

James pushed his finger against Q’s mouth, cutting him off. “Shh, don’t speak. You’ll bite the inside of your cheek again and although I brought everything that you gave me back in one piece, car included,” he patted the dashboard quite proudly and Q just then realized why the vehicle looked so familiar “but you did not give me napkins so I have none.”

 

Well, if Bond wasn’t going to let him explain what happened, then fine. He would lead the man to the dentist’s office and laugh at him when he finally got the point. He had given the man more than one chance to avoid the whole thing, but since double oh bloody seven was unable to listen then he was free to make a fool of himself because Q was absolutely done with the whole thing.

 

He slumped back in the seat, hoped that he had enough control of his facial muscles to dawn a scowl and typed in the address in the agent’s GPS. He must have checked in because the device was no longer connected to the MI6 satellite, so the dentist’s office showed up as a simple, unsuspecting building in the middle of a residential area.

 

“Hm, this neighbourhood isn’t that dangerous. But I suppose that is why they managed to get the jump on you.” He ruffled Q’s hear before starting up the car and speeding out of the parking lot, making it quite clear that he wasn’t planning on respecting any sort of traffic laws.

 

Q was certain he was going to get a whole new set of bruises from the seatbelt, since James was forced to hit the brakes suddenly quite often to avoid ramming into cars. And the existence of other cars besides his on the streets did nothing to his temper. “Can you text R to ask for green lights until we get there?” He grumbled, honking the horn the second the light turned green.

 

Q shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. M knew about his condition, knew where the dentist’s office was and if he used his branch resources for something personal, he was going to get into trouble. He was sure that his jaws were going to hurt; he did not want to get a headache from the woman rightfully yelling at him because he didn’t make the whole situation clear to the agent.

 

James clicked his tongue and took a sudden right turn, grabbing the back of Q’s shirt just moments before he hit his head against the door. “How did you get attacked anyway? Did they came in from behind you or was it like a frontal attack? Not that it would matter; you’re horrible at defending himself.

 

Well, that was simply rude. He was fairly decent at that! The private instructor that Eve had assigned to teach him self-defence was quite proud of him, telling him that he was the fastest learning student he’d ever had. Just last week, he’d took the man down three—

 

“It’s because that instructor of yours is going easy on you,” James’ distracted voice interrupted Q’s train of thoughts, effectively making it crush.

 

He was going easy on him? What did he mean by that? He opened his mouth to ask the agent, but his jaw bones cracked and pan shot through his mouth. What a perfect time for the bloody anaesthesia to go away. James hit the brakes – thank god they were on a backstreet with no traffic around them – and started to run his hands up and down Q’s body.

 

“Where does it hurt? Do you have any broken bones? Any broken ribs? Or maybe just simply bruised? Should I turn the car around and drop you off at medical?” It was amazing that he still sounded so calm, despite his rapid breathing and how wide his blue eyes were. Q had that cliché feeling of being able to drown in them.

 

“Fine. Just…jaws. Hurt,” Q forced himself to grunt out, managing to get a bit of spit over James. “Sorry.” He used his sleeve to dry the agent, freezing when he man just leaned his head on his shoulder and sighed in relief. “I’m okay.”

 

James’ hand hovered close to Q’s face and Q actually leaned a bit closer, waiting to feel the agent’s soft touch. But James shook his head and started the car again, not quite looking at the road. “Does it hurt if you don’t talk?” Q shook his head. “Okay, then keep quiet. We’ll stop at a drug store and get you some painkillers on our way to my apartment. Or your apartment. Wherever you want to go, but don’t even try to ditch me because as of this second, I am your bodyguard.”

 

That was very kind of James and the thought that the agent was ready to give up his downtime to protect him made Q’s stomach do all sort of flips while his heart forgot how to beat properly. He needed to think of something else fast before he did anything stupid. “You said he was going easy on me,” he struggled to say without getting slobber all over the dashboard.

 

“The instructor? Yeah, he is. I saw you two training on the day I left for the mission and he let you beat him. And that is a stupid thing to do because it gives the student a false sense of security and then _this_ happens.” He clutched the wheel so tight that his hands actually turned white and Q couldn’t help but poke his shoulder. “I’ll talk to Eve to let me take over his duties because it’s clear that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

 

Q was going to talk to Eve before James and give her a piece of his mind. It suddenly clicked why the man would be careful around him and he was furious with the woman. He was also furious with his body, because if it didn’t bruise as easily as it did, he wouldn’t be going through this right now.

 

“Is this the place? The streets look abandoned, but I think we might find some security footage and your demonic minions—“

 

Q grabbed the phone out of the agent’s hand and pocked it, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No, it was inside the building. On the seventh floor.”

 

He wasn’t fast enough to grab the gun from the agent and the man seemed to suddenly have developed superpowers because the building’s main door was already closing behind him. Q ran after him, realizing just then it was more the agent’s style to burst down the door, shooting his gun first and ask questions later.

 

By the time he reached the seventh floor, he was out of breath and he clung to James’ back, happy that he couldn’t smell any gunpowder. That mean the gun hadn’t been used and whatever caught the agent’s attention was going to get another nice gift from Q even if it was probably a beautiful woman who he would bed after abandoning Q as payback for letting this whole charade continue – he was starting to feel guilty, especially since it was clear now that James was worried out of his mind for him.

 

“Ah, Quartermaster! R said that you were on your way here with 007.” Q was practically blinded by the dentist’s white smile. “You forgot your pain medication and so we called headquarters to ask someone from medical to give you some.”

 

Q felt the muscles’ in James arm twitch and he wrapped his around it before the agent could punch the innocent man. “No one hurt me, James. I simply bruise extremely easy and I just had all of my wisdom teeth removed and my face ended up looking like this.”

 

He didn’t dare to look the man in the face, but James had other plans because he gently titled his head back and lowered his own to catch his eye. “Q, the bruises you have… And your teeth were covered in blood and your lips were blue and your mouth was so puffy…”

 

“007, when was the last time you had a tooth removed?” The dentist intervened, both men realizing that everyone had their eyes trained at him, a few looking like they were one bag of popcorn away from enjoying a movie. “I am not talking about the bruising, of course. But the other things you described are normal. Especially after the force I had to apply to get those nasty rotten teeth out.”

 

“Just how— Do you have a room where I could talk in private with _my_ quartermaster, doctor?”

 

The man glanced at Q, relaxing when the other nodded that it was okay and turning to signal the nurse to cease doing whatever she was doing – probably getting ready to send in an SOS to HQ and pull out a gun to order the agent away from the quartermaster. “Last room on the left. There’s a camera in there and it will not be turned off for security reasons. All footage goes to Q branch, so we will not be hearing anything.”

 

James nodded his thanks and stepped to the side, signalling for Q to walk first. He was grateful for that because it meant he would have enough time to mask the worry he couldn’t quite understand why he was feeling.

 

“How easily to you bruise?” James asked quietly as soon as the door was closed behind them and Q sighed, starting to unbutton his shirt.

 

The look he got from James when he turned around and showed the obvious seatbelt mark was confusing. It looked hungry at first, then it quickly dissolved into horror and Q started to struggle to cover himself up. He had gotten those kinds of looks in the past from his lovers and friends and it hadn’t bothered him as much as it did now. He didn’t want James to look at him with _disgust_ of all things.

 

“Don’t tell anyone else about this. Especially Alec. I quite like it when he hugs me and the people who find out about this generally stop touching me,” he muttered, surprised when his eyes started to sting. He wasn’t supposed to show emotion, not to an agent, not over this,

 

James grabbed the shirt and threw it on the chair behind them, pushing Q’s glasses up a bit and gently wiping the unshed tears from his eyes before focusing on the marks. “Do they hurt? When I grabbed your arm and pulled you after me or when I stopped the car so suddenly that you ended up with that, did I hurt you?”

 

So he insisted on talking about this, great. Now he was sorry that James didn’t storm out when he found out that this was an MI6 dentist office. “No, I don’t feel a thing. And they heal extremely fast, the medical staff knows about this as does M, Miss Moneypenny, Mister Tanner and R, so _please_ keep it a secret.”

 

That was all James needed to hear because in the next second, he had his arms tightly wrapped around him, his face hidden in Q’s neck. And Q honestly felt like he was on could nine because of how warm and safe he felt. He hugged the agent back without a second thought, rubbing his cheek against his temple.

 

“I’m tempted to tell the world just so I’d be the only one to do this.” He stepped away from Q, robbing him of his pleasure, cupping his face. “I didn’t spot any bruises below the belt so—”

 

Q slapped him, pulling his shirt back on and quickly starting to button it up, trying to keep his breathing under control. He knew Bond liked to get revenge when he was wronged, but over a bloody sort-of prank that he was to blame to begin with? “Insufferable twit!” Q hissed at the man who had yet to recover, grabbing his satchel before running out the door.

 

He ignored the doctor who called out to him, ignored the fact that his hear was messier now than when he had entered. He didn’t care that he forgot his jacket; they could send it to headquarters. All the people looking at him funnily could bite him while the agent went to hell.

 

This will surely land him a weekly visit to the psychiatrist and R would have to deal with 007’s missions for a long while. The man could also forget getting the best gadgets, not that he cared about them – although the man had brought the latest ones back for whatever reason.

 

“Q, wait! You got it all wrong!” James called after him and Q just started to walk faster, fishing out his oyster card from his satchel, easily manoeuvring around the people as he went down the stairs, towards the subway.

 

He was lucky enough to enter the subway cart just a moment before the doors closed and he leaned against them, hugging his satchel tightly before someone tapped him on the shoulder and gave him his seat.

 

“Dearie, do you want us to find you a nice constable so you could talk to him about whoever did this to you?” The old lady who was trying to get him to take her seat asked in a soft voice and Q blinked, finally snapped out of his zombie-state.

 

“Oh no, it is quite alright, madam. I—“

“Q!” He rolled his eyes when he heard the agent’s voice, looking in the opposite direction the voice came from. Bloody hell, why couldn’t he have lost the train? It wasn’t like he knew where he lived. He could have avoided him until Tuesday. “You forgot your painkillers and listen, I didn’t mean to hit—”

 

James was interrupted by a sudden bag connecting with his head and Q was startled to find himself pushed down on the chair as the old lady somehow managed to tower over a man who was way taller than her. “Now listen here, you brute! You will not hit him again, do you hear me? And you, boy, you go straight to the cops and tell them what he did. A man who does this is no man at all.”

 

Everyone was looking at them, some trying to subtly film everything – Q pulled out his phone and, ignoring the texts in which R was demanding to know what was happening and why he had slapped James and if it was okay for her to deal with the agent, asked her to track all the phones in the immediate area he was in and delete all video and photo files – and some glaring at James, clutching their own bags tightly as if they were waiting for him to snap at the nice little grandma protecting her nephew so they could also unleash their own hits on him.

 

“Madam, it is really not like that. I just bruise easily,” he showed her his arm and pinched himself, just like he did with the MI6 personal driver. “See? And I just had my wisdom teeth removed, so it is only natural that I look like this.” He got up and helped her sit back again, kissing the back of her hand. “But thank you for worrying about a complete stranger.”

 

The old woman covered her mouth, gasping. “Oh dear me! I am so sorry, sir.” Her cheeks became rosy and it was easy to assume that she easily made a lot of men fall to their knees in front of her when she had been younger.

 

James smiled at her, worming his arms around Q and pulling him right up against him. “It really is quite alright, madam. I did deserve that since I couldn’t help myself from hitting on him when I realized that he was free.” He squeezed Q a bit, winking at him. “But I can stop doing that if it’s not welcomed?”

 

Q coughed and looked to the side, not quite blushing yet. “Ah, we’re on the wrong track,” he said suddenly, starting to move towards the door. “Thank you and sorry again, madam, for disrupting your day.”

 

She waved at them, saying something that they couldn’t quite catch because the doors had closed and the subway started to move again. James guided Q to a bench where he sat him down and started to arrange his clothes, wiping his lips with a napkin he had taking out of the old woman’s bag before brushing his lips against Q’s cheek. Or so Q assumed when the man moved closer to him and smelled his expensive aftershave because he still couldn’t quite feel things with his face.

 

“We’ll take a cab back to my car and then I’ll take you home, okay?” James asked softly, squeezing Q’s hand. “I promise not to make you listen to my horrible lines on my next mission?”

 

Q narrowed his eyes, tugging a bit on his shirt to try and hide his bruised face in it without realizing it. “If you destroy one more earwig, I’ll castrate you when you’re sleeping,” he promised, flinching when he yawned and his jaws cracked again. He hated the aftereffects of a visit at the dentist so much.

 

“I guess I’ll have to be sure that you’re happy prior to me falling asleep, right?” He leaned a bit closer to Q, but waited for Q to make the next move, to see if they were on the same page and if there was a chance for something or if he had wasted it with one half of a really horrible line.

 

His heart finally started to beat right when Q met him halfway and sort of nuzzled him, sighing as he rested his head on his shoulder. “The anaesthesia is starting to go away and I really dislike what I am feeling. I don’t suppose you could also magic out a bottle of water out of somewhere?”

 

After buying a bottle of water and glaring at the cab driver who looked like he would rather drop them off at police station rather than where he had been asked, James was happily driving Q back home. He didn’t even have to ask if Q wanted him to be sure that he actually made it to his apartment because the young Quartermaster awkwardly asked him if he wanted an icepack for the lumps he might have gotten from the woman – he didn’t have any and Q knew that, but he would be damned if he asked James up for a cup of coffee.

 

Nothing happened, Q saying that he needed to lie on the sofa for a moment before actually bringing James the ice and instantly falling asleep. James poked his nose around his apartment – also making sure that it was secure and that there was no one lying in wait for Q to be left alone before attacking him – and grabbed the covers from the bed, draping it over the sleeping man before sitting on the ground and fishing out his phone, finally reading all the text messages he had received.

 

He wasn’t surprised in the least that they were all death threats from Q’s minions and Eve, the woman promising to scratch his car with his bones. Well, now it was definitely clear that he wouldn’t reach home in one piece if he left Q’s apartment before they both set things right with everyone – and themselves included; it wasn’t quite clear if they had anything or not – so rested his head next to Q’s and willed himself to sleep, succeeding to do that faster than usual due to how relaxing and comforting the other man’s heartbeat and breathing so close to his ear was.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3


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